


Electrical Storm

by eiluned



Category: X-Men (Ultimateverse)
Genre: Angst, F/M, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Date Finished: 22 September 2002. "Jean comes to me when she's crying."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Electrical Storm

\---  
 _You're in my mind all of the time  
I know that's not enough  
if the sky can crack  
there must be some way back  
for love and only love_  
\-----

Jean comes to me when she's crying. Late at night, when she doesn't want anyone else to know that she breaks down. I don't know why she comes to me, of all people.

I just know that she cries and my goddamn heart breaks every time.

She sneaks into my room, smelling of tears and misery, and I can't tell her no. I can never tell her no. I can't ask why she doesn't go to Scott instead, because I know that I wouldn't be able to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

She lets me hold her while she sobs, and I never even know what she's crying about. I just hold her and thank God, if anything like that exists, that she comes to me. Because I know she trusts me, no matter what she says in the light of day.

I hold her and whisper stupid little nothings. Tell her that everything will be all right. Not to worry. Not to cry. I'll always be here for her.

She looks up at me with big, wet green eyes, disbelieving. "Why do you let me do this?" she asks every time, her voice broken.

Most of the time, I don't answer, but one time I told her. "Because I love you."  
                          
A little shudder went through her body, and she left.

But she's back again every night, sobbing and apologizing, and I hold her. Tell her not to be sorry. And I ask her when she would give up the pretense. She comes to me every night, not him. When will she stop lying to herself and everyone else?

"I don't know," is all she says before leaving again.

I lay in my bed, watching lightning streak across the sky, feeling the heat of the storm. I've never loved anyone in my life, not that I can remember. I hate to admit it, but I'm afraid of it. I'm afraid of being vulnerable, and this is the most vulnerable I've ever been.

When she leaves, I stretch out on my back and breathe her scent in, rub it into my skin. Rip the sheets off of my bed and smell them, holding on to that little bit of her that stays behind. Touch myself and imagine that it's her hands. Feel her hands on my body again. Imagine her body underneath mine, on top of mine. Come gasping into my own hand, colors bursting behind my eyes, loneliness so sharp that it tears my heart apart. Breathe in what's left of her.

I wait every night for her to come to my room and cry in my arms. I wait for her to come to me.


End file.
